


Fixation

by Cinnamonacid



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Death, Drinking, F/M, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sleep Deprivation, Stalking, Strong Female Characters, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29209866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonacid/pseuds/Cinnamonacid
Summary: You see him as a subject, he sees you as a fan.Finishing up your last year in getting your criminal psychology degree, you moved to the town of Roseville where a certain masked killer roamed. And you happen to catch that killer’s eye.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Reader, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	1. Outsider

Roseville, Florida was quite a strange town. You just moved away from home for the first time, and you had to admit, it was very different from the rural countryside where you spent most of your life. But, you supposed it was sort of nice to be free like this, away from your overprotective father and suffocating mother, finally able to be yourself and make your own decisions.

But still, the people here were very weird. Some would be on edge, while others were carefree, without a single worry in the world. Of course, you could amount that to the fact a masked killer was running around, and that you hadn’t been to any place like this before. That was one of the main reasons why you were here, after all. To learn about the serial killer, Ghostface.

For the past six years, you’ve been studying to get a PhD in criminal psychology and you were lucky enough to spend your final year in Roseville, the town where the Ghostface murders took place. He had been sighted in different states and cities before, but this was where the most recent ones occurred. 

And now here you stayed, working as a café barista during the day and as a college student during the night. You barely ever slept, and your stress from moving didn’t help at all. You were also extremely paranoid, but who could blame you when there was a murderer roaming the streets of a town you barely knew? 

He could be anyone, he could’ve walked into the shop today and you wouldn’t have known. And that’s one of the things that scared you the most. Plus, you knew you could be easy pickings for him, considering you were new, an outsider with no friends, no family, no one to even care for your death. And that’s why you took extra precautions. For example, you made a list of rules for yourself. Such as: 

Rule No.1: Don’t Trust Anyone.   
You knew it was cliché, but he could be anybody. People have their motives and people can snap, if pushed far enough. It’s just hard to tell who. 

Rule No.2: No Staying Out After Sunset.  
This was pretty much common sense since most residents usually have curfews. Well, the cautious ones do. Also, you read about one of his victims reporting being followed during the night, and that was the last thing you needed right now. 

Rule No.3: Double-Check Your Locks  
From studying the techniques he used to break in and kill his victims, you knew that Ghostface liked to get in unnoticed. So, just before you would go to bed, you double-checked, always making sure your locks were untouched. 

Rule No.4: No relationships-

The feeling of boiling hot coffee against your skin pulled you away from your thoughts, making you remember where you were. You were working the morning shift at Mullin’s Coffee Shop, once again getting lost in your head. The coffee cup fell to the ground, some spilling on you and splattering all over the person that was facing you. 

“Ah, shit. I’m so sorry!” You apologized profusely, grabbing some napkins and trying to wipe off the burning coffee from the customer’s shirt. It honestly seemed like a miracle that you weren’t fired. 

“It’s fine, really, there’s no need.” The stranger reassured, gently taking your hand and moving it off of his now soaked shirt. You looked up, feeling your cheeks burn as your (e/c) eyes met with his pale brown ones. 

The man standing before you was rather handsome, with messy dark brown hair, glasses that framed his face nicely, and some stubble on his chin. He wore a dark red flannel with the sleeves rolled back and a white shirt underneath which now had a big brown stain decorating it that made you feel incredibly guilty. A black camera was slung over his shoulder and you couldn’t help but feel like you’ve seen him before. 

You were pretty sure he was a regular here, seeing some other employees serve him every now and then. But none of them had spilled coffee on him like you just did. God, you could be such an idiot sometimes. 

“Um, I‘ll get you another one. What was it again? Two creams, one sugar?” He nodded in confirmation, and you turned away, restarting the process of making the coffee. 

The patron watched as you made the coffee, shifting from machine to machine, like a predator watching prey. He hasn’t seen you around before. How curious. 

“A pretty little thing, isn’t she? I hired her cause I thought this place needed a fresh young face, that and she’d attract more customers. It seems to be working.” Mr.Mullin chimed in, smirking at the regular. The elder café owner patted his shoulder, chuckling a little. 

“You’re too much Ben, you know that?” The regular replied, laughing softly as he leaned over the counter. 

“Aw, come on, don’t give me that. I may be old, but I’m not a fool. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you were looking at her, Jed.” 

The man went quiet at his words, glancing over at you and making sure you weren’t listening in on the conversation. “I wouldn’t be too worried about her listening. She’s smart but always has her head in the clouds. She kind of reminds me of you. But, I can’t help but worry for her. With the people in this town, the poor girl’s going to get eaten alive.” 

Jed couldn’t help but silently agree with Mr. Mullin’s words. A woman like you didn’t stand a chance against some of the nastiest and truly horrible people he’s ever met. But that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst part was that you were about to meet the most horrid out of all of them and you wouldn’t even realize it. And that terrible person was starting to take a real sick interest in you.

“Here’s your coffee. Again, I’m so sorry about what happened with the spill and all.” You said, handing him the cup properly this time. 

“You don’t have to apologize. Accidents happen, it’s no big deal.” He told you, waving it off. “Oh, and one more thing, I didn’t happen to catch your name.” 

“(Y/n).” 

He repeated it to himself, shooting you a charming smile that made your stomach do flips. Before you could ask for his name, he left. And for the rest of your shift, that handsome stranger plauged your mind.


	2. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking quite the interest in you, Ghostface decides to do some research for his next possible kill.

As you ran by, Danny took a photo, licking his teeth. He looked down at his camera, staring down at the picture for a moment or two before he went back to watching you. Once you reached the crosswalk, you stopped, catching your breath and tapping the button. 

It was a warm Sunday morning, which Danny was spending studying your routine like he did with most of his victims. In a way, it was sort of ironic that he had to learn about their lives to take them.

With you though, things were a little different. He enjoyed following you a lot more. He enjoyed seeing your face, seeing how you worked, how you interacted with others, and just how you lived your life. You were definitely going to be a favorite, and while he still did want to hurt you, a small part of him didn’t want to kill you. 

He didn’t know what it was but, there was something about you, something that was starting to get him deeply infatuated.

You were a smart, cautious, girl, sometimes a little bit too cautious. As if you knew he was following you. Your mornings always started the same, with a two-mile run out and back, a shower, breakfast, and then work, where you would serve Jed before he went off to work at the Roseville Gazette. You didn’t know that part though, too absorbed in your own world to even ask for the man you found so intriguing's name.

Once you finished your shift, you would go home and stay there for the rest of the day and night which you would spend locking yourself in, procrastinating, and stressing over essays you had to write and send back to your college. What were those essays about? Danny didn’t know yet. And that’s what he was going to do today, find it out. 

So, when you went off to work, Danny broke in. This wasn’t the first time he had been to your place, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. It was a cute little place you had. A nice house in a cul de sac, right near the edge of the forest. He almost bought it when he first moved to Roseville. 

After getting inside, he walked over to your coffee table in the living room, the place where you did most of your work. But before he could even look at your writing, something caught his eye. 

In the corner of the house, right on a step of the staircase was a basket of dirty laundry. Something very distracting for Danny. You wanted him to find this, didn’t you? Oh, it was quite the treat. 

Burrowing through the clothes, he pulled out something pink and lacy. One of your panties. He eyed the article of clothing, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was doused in your presence. He wondered about the naughty things you’ve done in these, then pocketing them for later use. 

He wasn’t here for collecting. Right now, he was here to see what you were spending so much time writing about in those essays. So, he turned back to the table, putting down the laundry basket and pushing it back to its original place. 

Sitting down on your couch, and leaning over your table, Danny picked up the scattered papers, filing through them. There were multiple first drafts, notes, and articles placed here and there. But that wasn’t the most interesting part. 

All of this was research about him. All of the papers, every single one was about Ghostface. He never knew that he had fans. And what made it better was that you were the biggest one.

Everything you wrote about was him. How was Ghostface? Why was Ghostface? Who was Ghostface? 

It almost seemed like you were obsessed with him. And that was the moment that Danny knew he couldn’t kill you. Not for a while anyway. He wanted to own you and play with you for a bit first. 

So once he got caught up on some reading, he was going to begin the fun. 

\--

Sighing, you collapsed onto the couch. It had been three hours since you got home, and you didn’t even start touching the pencil or paper yet. 

You already made dinner and did the laundry. The only thing that wasn’t clean in your house right now was the coffee table, which held all the unwanted work you didn’t even want to touch. What made it worse was the deadline that was quickly approaching. You had to write up your thesis, and mail it to your professor by this Friday or else you would fail the assignment. 

Finally, you managed to grab the pencil, sliding off your couch and onto your floor, staring down at the notepad. But your mind went blank, and you just ended up having a staring contest with the paper. 

You put your head against the table, letting out a groan. Ugh, writer’s block can be such a bitch sometimes. 

Picking your head up, you looked around the room, searching for something to distract yourself with. Your eyes met with a phone that was plugged into the counter in your kitchen. It had been over a week since you last spoke with your best friend, why not give her a ring? 

So you got to your feet, and walked over to the phone, pulling it off the hook and dialing her up. 

Your best friend, Charlotte, was now an elementary school teacher back home in Colorado, where you used to live. She stayed while you moved away. Neither of you had much in common, but still managed to become close. 

“Hey (y/n), how’s it goin over there in big-time Florida?” She greeted when she picked up.

“To be honest, I’m dying. I feel like I’m drowning in paperwork. I got another stupid deadline coming up and I haven’t even started on a concept yet.” You answered. 

“I told you that you’d hate it. I said, ‘It’s too much work. Too much writing. Too much thinking.’ And you didn’t listen to me. But, you’re in your last year so, you can’t give up now.” That was Charlotte for you. The mom friend who always told you what she thought was right. 

“Yeah, I know. How are things back home?” You asked, twirling the pencil in the air. 

“Always eventful, as usual. Remember little Johnny? He got his head stuck in a chair again for the third time this month. We had to call the fire department.” She told you, causing you both to begin to laugh.“I swear that kid never learns.” 

“Well, he’s Sean’s son, so it makes sense.” You agreed, a reminiscent smile on your face. 

“Oh, also, there’s this new teacher, Andrew Jenkins. Phew, he sure is something. He’s so good with kids and- how about you? Any cute guys over in Roseville?” She questioned. 

“Eh, not really. Actually, wait, there’s this one guy who comes in to get his coffee. I think he’s a photographer or something. I’ve been so busy with packing and writing, I haven’t even gotten his name.” You admitted, thinking back to that handsome stranger that appeared in your mind every now and then. 

“Well, finish your work and get his name. Call me back when you get it. Love you, bye.” She said, and before you could reply, she hung up on you. 

With some new inspiration in mind, you picked up the pen and paper, finally beginning to write. 

About an hour or so into your writing, your phone rang. Assuming it was Charlotte calling you back for something, you picked up. “What’s up? Any updates?” 

There was no response on the other line. Only silence. 

“Hello? Charlotte?” Nothing. 

Feeling yourself grow uneasy, you decided to hang up. 

It’s no big deal. It’s probably just a prank call or something. Nothing to freak out about, right? 

And with that in mind, you continued with your restless night of writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that the stress of moving and work is really coming down on you, but maybe someone could help with that.

There he stood, the one and only Ghostface looming above you. Keeping you pinned underneath him, he raised his knife. “Rise and Shine.” And right as he went down for a powerful stab, you awoke. 

You jumped, laying back on the couch behind you and letting out a long sigh of relief. You hadn’t had a nightmare like that in a while. The phone then rang, forcing you to get up and answer it. 

“Hello?” You asked, your voice sounding drowsy. But there was no reply, nothing but some light breathing. For the past couple of days, a lot of the calls you’ve been getting were like this, and you just assumed it was some teenager pranking you or something. 

Right now, you were too tired to deal with this, so you decided to give this person a good talking to. “Isn’t there something better you have to do rather than trying to constantly scare someone with these dumb pranks? Go do something productive with your life, and fuck off.” 

Hanging up, you put the phone back onto the hook, groaning and rubbing your temples. You glanced over at the clock, looking to see what time it was. 

10:30 AM. An hour into your shift. 

“Fuck.” You swore under your breath. The one day you get sort of a good amount of rest, you end up oversleeping. Of course. 

Muttering all of the curses in the book, you raced up upstairs and to your room, where your alarm clock was still going off. If only you slept in your actual bed instead of at your table. 

You looked through your dresser, searching for a good set of undergarments. Ever since the move, you’ve been losing things. But recently, it became more noticeable. Your panties, some cooking utensils, even some of the small nick nacks you kept around your home. You weren’t too worried, considering the fact that your place was a mess right now, and your belongings were probably somewhere around here. 

After grabbing a set of fresh clothes to wear, you hurried off to work, skipping your breakfast. 

“Sorry I’m late, I overslept.” You apologized between pants, grabbing your apron off the hook and tying it around your waist. 

“It’s fine, you’ll just work an hour later, sweetheart.” Mr. Mullin waved it off, and you let your body relax, settling into your work. 

\--

“Um, hello, can I get some help here?” A familiar blonde woman asked. 

Oh no. Not her. 

She was a regular here, and even though you never dealt with her, you saw the way she treated the other employees. And you doubted that you could deal with this today. But you sucked it up and went to take her order. 

“I’ll have what I always have. A gluten-free latte with soy milk and two pumps of creamer, no sugar.” She said, gesturing with her ugly acrylics. 

You nodded, turning away and making her coffee. You prayed that she wouldn’t yell at you like she did with your coworkers. Not for your sake, but for her’s. With the way things were going today, you doubted you could hold back your temper. 

You put the coffee cup on the counter, watching as she scoured it with her beady eyes, searching for something to complain about. “I asked for two pumps of creamer, not three.”

God, you hated people like her. Ones who made other’s lives miserable because they couldn’t stand their own. They were always so infuriating. 

“Sorry, I’ll make another.” You spoke in the kindest tone you could, taking the coffee cup from her hands and dumping it into the trash. 

“There’s no need to be rude, I’m just being honest with you like a customer should be. Since the customer is always right, and that latte was complete crap.” You bit down hard on your cheek at that remark, trying to calm yourself. Did she seriously have that much power that she could just get away with saying stuff like that? 

The worst she could do was write a shitty review, but you supposed she could get someone fired too, and you did not want to be that someone. 

Deep breaths, (y/n), deep breaths. 

Finishing up the latte again, you handed it back to her. She took a sip, wincing. “Ugh, this is even worse.” 

“You know what? If you think the coffee’s so shitty, then why don’t you make it yourself?” You blurted out. That managed to get the attention of everyone in the café, including your boss and coworkers. 

Well, no turning back now. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m not going to repeat myself. And I’m not going to waste my time making you coffee five times over just for your pleasure. So you can go find someone else to do this, but it’s not going to be me.” You stood your ground, suppressing the desire to smack this woman right across her makeup-caked face. 

“I want to speak with Mr. Mullin right now! My husband’s a lawyer. He can get you fired, he can make you lose your home if I sue!” She threatened, but you still refused to back down. 

“It’s sad that you have to hide behind your husband to try and fuck up my life. Why don’t you grow a pair and do it yourself?” You seethed as Mr.Mullin stood between you two to keep things from further escalating. 

“(Y/n), why don’t you go take someone else’s order?” He told you, clearly not happy with the situation. You would deal with that later. Right now, you were too pissed to even think about the future.

“Fine.” You muttered, cursing the woman out under your breath, grabbing at the counter in frustration, and scratching your nails against it. “Fucking bitch, I hope she gets what’s coming to her.” 

Danny couldn’t help but smirk when he saw how furious you were. It was quite attractive seeing you get so angry, so mad. And then he heard those delicious words slip from your lips. 

“I hope she gets what’s coming to her.” 

It was practically begging, beckoning him to do something about it. And maybe he would, just as a gift for you. 

“Mind if I order? You seem kind of...busy.” Jed said, pulling you out of your little fit.

“Oh, sure. How long were you standing there?” You asked with a nervous laugh. 

He shrugged, scratching some of the stubble on his cheek. “Not long.” 

“Ugh, you probably must think I’m crazy or something-“ 

“Oh, no. I get it, trust me. We’ve all had to deal with her.” Jed smiled at you reassuringly, making your cheeks flush. You smiled back, going to fix up his coffee. 

You took a small breath, handing him his caffeinated beverage. This was it, the moment when you would ask him for his name. “And who’s this coffee for again?” 

“Jed Olsen.” That answer made you freeze, standing in place. He was Jed Olsen? You had read all his articles on Ghostface at least four times. You always pictured Jed to be an older man, one who had lots of experience from this kind of thing. Not someone handsome like this. 

“Oh my god, wow. I just want to say you write Ghostface beautifully. Oh, that sounds weird. I’m studying to be a criminal psychologist, and I’ve been specifying in serial killers like him. I’ve read all of your articles at least a few times, heh.” Jed knew that, since Danny saw quite a few news clippings of his articles in your home. 

“Thanks, it feels nice to know someone appreciates my work. Maybe I could interview you some time, get a professional opinion. Or I could have you come down to the office and help me with some articles.” He offered. 

“I would be honored, but, I wouldn’t really consider myself a professional. Not for another year, anyway.” You admitted, brushing a hair behind your ear. “But, I might need to take you up on that, since I’m probably going to be fired after this.” 

“Eh, Mr.Mullin likes you, so, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” 

“Thanks.” You handed him his cup of coffee. “Have a nice day, Jed.” 

“You too, (y/n). See you around.”


	4. Following

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re beginning to grow paranoid as you start noticing that you’re being stalked.

Letting out a small sigh, you walked down the aisle, browsing through the cereals. It was about ten in the evening, and you were out grocery shopping. You knew that going out past dark was breaking one of your rules, but you were just at the post office, mailing one of your papers, so you figured now was a good time. 

You had been putting it off, buying takeout and going to fast-food restaurants, and that started getting expensive pretty fast. So, here you were now, in the almost empty store, going to the checkout. 

Once you got all your groceries scanned and paid, you left the store, bags in hand. You should really get a car, instead of having to walk everywhere, and possibly getting noticed by a serial killer. 

It was pitch black outside, the only thing lighting up the road being the dim lampposts and streetlights. You made sure to keep close to lights, using them to guide you back home, and as a small sense of security you still had. In a way, it was kind of like a night light for you, showing any monsters that were possibly waiting in the dark. 

Still, there was a skin-crawling feeling gnawing at you that you couldn’t shake. One that felt as if you were being watched. As if you were being followed. 

You were too scared to look over your shoulder, and when you did, you felt your heart sink into your stomach. That feeling you had was right. 

At the end of the street behind you, there was a hooded figure, slowly walking. They were too far away for you to make out any features. The only thing you could see was their black hood, and that they were following you. 

This all didn’t feel real. It felt like one of those shitty horror movies you used to watch with your friends. But it was real, and you could feel your instincts kick in. 

The next thing you knew, you were sprinting off, clutching your bags tightly and going through your purse, searching for your pepper spray. You were too distracted with getting away and defending yourself, that you didn’t even notice some rocks on the sidewalk, which caused you to trip and fall, your groceries and the contents to your purse flying everywhere. 

You groaned, hurriedly going on your now skinned knees and collecting your things. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how far ahead you were. You must’ve ran two blocks without stopping. And you were suddenly very thankful for forcing yourself to run almost every morning. 

The person who was following you was now nowhere in sight, so you let yourself relax a bit, getting all your things together and wanting to get home before they saw where you lived. 

You then heard a car pull up, a low, charming voice following along with it. “You okay there, miss? I saw you running and taking quite a fall.” 

When you looked up, you saw a police officer, sitting in his car. He was quite handsome, with short brown hair, a clean shave, and a nice muscular build, from what you could see. 

“Oh yes, I’m fine, thank you. I just thought I saw someone following me.” You said that second part a lot more quietly, looking over your shoulder, checking if you were still being followed. 

There was no one there, and while a part of you was relieved, another part was telling you that you were just being paranoid and seeing things. You could’ve sworn there was a person following you. You saw them, you did. 

“You think someone is following you? I don’t see anyone. Why don’t I drive you home? I’ll make sure you get there safe.” He offered, which you chuckled at. “But I don’t even know your name.” 

He laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, right. I’m Jackson Lankster. Sherrif’s Deputy.” 

“(Y/n) (l/n). It’s a pleasure.” You shook his hand, and he opened the door for you, having you sit in the passenger’s seat. After telling him your address, he began to drive over, making some small talk with you. 

“You didn’t have to do this, really. I know you’re probably busy on patrol or something, so thanks for taking the time out of your day to do this.” You said with a smile, cringing at how much of a kiss ass you sounded like right now. 

“Oh, it was no problem. Just doing my duty.” He grinned, drumming his fingers against the wheel as he pulled up to a stop sign. “I haven’t seen you around, you knew in town?” 

“Yeah, I just moved here a month or two ago.” You answered. 

“Well, it’s nice to see a fresh, pretty face.” He complimented, making your cheeks flush ever so slightly. 

Soon enough, he was in your driveway, pulling up. But before you could get out of the car, he placed a hand on the edge of your thigh, stopping you. “If you ever need anything, just give me a call, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks.” You cringed at his touch, putting your hand underneath his and pushing it away from your leg. It was disappointing that the people who seemed the most honorable had the worst behavior. Just when you thought you had someone that could help you feel safe and protect you, they turn out to be a total creep. 

Maybe he just doesn’t understand personal boundaries. You told yourself, but deep down, you knew that was a lie.

You watched as the deputy drove off, sighing in disappointment. But before you could even get inside, there was a small squishing sound coming from the back of your house. 

Setting down the groceries at your front door and grabbing your pepper spray, you carefully walked out to the back of your home, preparing to attack whoever was trespassing your home. Rounding the side, you saw them. A stranger egging your house, wearing a black hoodie that was similar to the one you saw earlier. 

Feeling your anger get the best out of you, you dropped the pepper spray, grabbing them by their shoulders, flipping them around, and slamming them into the wall. “You think this is funny, huh? That this is some sort of game to you? Stalking me, calling my phone, and now vandalizing my house? What is wrong with you?”

“What are you talking about, lady? My friends dared me to egg your house, and they ditched when they saw the cop car.” You looked at him closer, realizing he was just some stupid teenager. 

You sighed, letting him go. “Scram, kid.” Doing as told, the boy stumbled to his feet, running off into the night. 

If he wasn’t the one who was following you and making those calls, then who could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jed talk Ghostface and someone else meets their end.

“(Y/n), (y/n)?” Jed called, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you jump. 

Danny had noticed how jumpy you’ve gotten, and he couldn’t deny how pleased he was with it. He barely even had to do anything, barely even had to follow you, barely even had to call your phone for you to be so paranoid. He loved how your eyes searched everywhere, scanning everyone, and viewing them all as an enemy, as a suspect. Well, everyone, except for him. 

You always managed to smile at Jed so brightly whenever you saw him, no matter what mood you were in. And he wondered, would you look at Ghostface the same way? 

Still, you weren’t ready yet. Sure, you had gotten a peek at him from afar the other night, and sure, he made a few calls. But he still had to do a few things. Cross a few ts, dot a few is, and then, it would be time for the finale.

“Oh, hey, sorry Jed.” You greeted him with a tired smile. “You want the same old?” 

“Sure, everything alright?” He asked while you began to make his coffee. 

You sighed softly, putting the top on the container and handing it to him. “Yeah,   
everything’s fine. I’m just a little tired.” 

“Well, I was thinking. If you’re not too busy sometime, we could sit down and have a chat about Ghostface. I could use some insight since I do have another piece coming up.” He offered, and almost immediately, your once exhausted eyes lit up. Maybe you really would be excited to see Ghostface. 

“That would be great. I’m pretty busy today, but you know what? I’m free in about ten minutes when I get off my shift, would you like to do it then?” You suggested. 

So eager and needy for him huh? How cute. 

“Sure.” Jed shrugged, going back and taking a seat at one of the booths, drinking his caffeinated bevarage, while you finished up your last order.

In a matter of minutes, your shift was done, and you untied your apron, setting it on the hook, quickly going over and taking a seat right across from Jed. He pushed up the glasses on his face, giving you a stunning smile.

He pulled out a notepad, flipping over a few pages and clicking the pen. “So, what caused your interest in Ghostface?” 

“Well, I’ve been studying killers for a while now, and he’s just different. Of course, none have the same method, but Ghostface is unique. I mean, the guy stalks people and wears a Halloween mask. But that’s not what really interests me. It’s that he could be anyone, he could be anywhere, he could even be in here with us. It’s a scary thought, but the truth is, anyone, can be a killer.” You told him. He nodded, scribbling something down. 

“Now, I have a question for you. The way you write about Ghostface, it’s almost like you admire him. And I was just wondering what you truly think of him.” You said, messing with your hair, and bouncing your knee. 

You didn’t know if he could tell, but you were absolutely thrilled to be doing this. It didn’t even feel like it was real. Here you were, talking with Jed Olsen, the Jed Olsen, about Ghostface. And it was nice to finally be able to talk with someone who understood what you constantly wrote about. 

“Well in a way, it is. I mean, without him, I wouldn’t be here. I had nothing when I moved to Roseville. Nothing and no one. But writing about him gave me this job. It gave me a purpose and something to do that was good, something that made me known. And I think he understands too that he needs to keep me around, otherwise no one would want to hear about him either.” He explained, taking a sip from his coffee. “But what about you? It seems you have your own feelings towards him. Do you have any admiration or anything?” 

“Me? Hell no. That’s like asking if a marine biologist loves a man-eating shark. At the most, I would say I’m curious about him.” You answered. 

Jed tapped his pen against the notepad and Danny covered his face, trying to hide his annoyance. “So, what do you think is going on in his head? Why do you think he does it?” 

“Well, from what I’ve observed, it seems like he thinks of it as some sort of game or challenge. He loves following people around, he loves the adrenaline, because he loves the possibility of getting caught. But he thinks as long as he can keep his head down, as long as he can continue and improve his method, then things will be okay. Then he could continue what he’s doing.” You looked up, seeing Jed completely shocked. “Oh sorry, was that too dark?” 

You were good. Very good. To the point that it scared him a little. How did you know him so well? They couldn’t have taught you all that at school, no. Maybe, a part of you deep down was just like him. He wondered if he could bring that part out, and make it flourish. But it would have to take a lot of work. 

“No, no, I’m just impressed. It seems like you really know what you’re doing. I could use your help. Maybe when you’re free, we could meet up and talk about it. Do you have a number, or-” 

“Oh yeah, sure. I’d love to do this again. Here.” Taking his notepad, you flipped to an open page, writing the number down. 

“I’ll call you.” He stuffed the notebook into his back pocket, waving and walking off.

“Do that.” You waved back. Once he was out of sight, you slumped back into the cushion on the booth, a big stupid grin plastered on your face. You wanted to squeal and dance around, like a little girl who just got her favorite toy. But you kept your composure, still smiling to yourself and resting your head on your knee. For once, things seemed to be looking up. 

\--

Jed wanted to continue talking to you, he really did, but he had more pressing matters to deal with. Such as editing the article he was finishing up, and finding a subject for another one. That subject, as in Danny’s next kill, was Debra Minty. Also known as the woman you argued with the other day who threatened to get you fired. 

He had seen her around town a few times before, usually causing a scene with employees at department stores, grocery shops, and some other public places. It seemed she just wanted to make people as miserable as she was, and it was working, especially with her own family. 

She had a nine-year-old son, Tommy, who was practically addicted to tv screens and video games. The boy barely did anything, didn’t even take off his socks without his parents' help. And her thirteen-year-old, Marisa, was just as snobby as her. She was a gymnastics star, and it seemed she never really got a choice in the matter, considering she constantly complained about doing it. 

While Danny would have no trouble killing her spoiled kids, he knew that would take lots more time and planning. And he knew the more time he spent on them, the longer it would take for him to play with you. So he was going to do this tonight. 

The sun set behind the clouds, painting the sky a pretty pink as Danny sat back in the car, watching as Debra nagged her husband, while he took Marisa to gymnastics practice and Tommy to a sleepover. Danny sort of felt bad for the man. The poor guy had to put up with her all the time, having to do almost everything around the house, besides cooking, cleaning, and decorating. Danny doubted he would miss her. He doubted anyone would. 

Once the sun was completely gone, along with the others in Debra’s home, Ghostface slipped out of the car silently, putting on the mask and adjusting the knife against his pants. Without a noise, he stalked up to her home, undoing the lock and going through the back door. 

There she sat, ranting to some friend on the phone, before ending the call. And right as he heard her put the phone on the hook, he crept in right behind her, toying with the knife as he imagined the soon-to-be sight before him. 

He made it wordless and quick, putting a gloved hand over her mouth and slitting her throat. A muffled shrill scream sounded as she fought under him, digging her fake nails into his robe and struggling around, but it was already too late. As she fell to the floor, Ghostface watched with a satisfied sigh. Her body convulsed, the blood still splattering all over, and seeping from her mouth. 

In that one moment, she was beautiful. Her face, emotionless and pale, instead of all scrunched up and like it usually was. Pulling the camera out from his pocket, he took a quick picture, before leaving and letting the others discover her body. 

He did what you wanted, what you were practically begging for. He gave her what she deserved. And now he was done with that, he was coming for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	6. Face Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally come face to face with Ghostface, or so you think.

Finishing off your final draft, you shoved the papers into a folder, laying back on your couch. It was late, just before midnight, and you finally got caught up on all your work. All you wanted to do was relax, watch some tv and get some sleep. 

So you turned on the television, and the first thing to come up was the news, an all too familiar face appearing on the screen. “Thirty-nine-year-old Debra Minty was found murdered in her home Thursday night, discovered by her very own husband with multiple stab wounds, and a slit in her throat. Police are scrambling to get on the case. Could this be another Ghostface murder? Detectives are saying it’s a possibility.” 

Feeling the shock run through you, you shut off the tv. You couldn’t say she didn’t have it coming, but you still felt horrible for what she and her family had to go through. The pain of loss, you had experienced it before, multiple times. But how, and why her? 

Maybe he was just doing you a favor. The more sick part of your mind thought, and almost immediately, you pushed it away, scolding yourself for even letting that get into your head. 

Then, your phone rang, but you decided not to answer it. You knew that Charlotte was probably sleeping right now, and no one else would be willing to call you at this time, unless it was trouble, so you decided not to answer.

But it just rang again, and again, until you gave in and went to answer it. “What?” 

“You know, it’s quite rude to ignore someone’s call.” A low, alluring voice said from the other line. You felt your body tense all over, eyes darting around. Was someone watching you?

“Who is this?” You asked, hiding your anxiety with a tone of accusation. 

“Let’s just say, a fan. I have to admit, those shorts are really doing something for you. Cute tank top, too.” You felt your throat dry up at that comment, spinning around and scanning the area. You were no longer alone, but were you alone in the first place? Had he been watching you this whole night, or even times before that? 

“Listen here, you sick fuck, I’ll give you five seconds to hang up before I call the cops.” You threatened him, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on the stranger. 

“And what’ll you say? ‘Oh, help me, help me, some random guy is calling and complimenting me.’ Even if they do believe you, it’s not like they’d do anything.” He mocked your tone, not even phased by your words. 

You rubbed the side of your head, letting out a shaky breath, and feeling your legs begin to tremble. “W-what do you want from me?” 

“I just want to play, and maybe come in and carve up that pretty skin of yours.” With that, your suspicions were immediately confirmed, and you knew exactly who it was. 

The man who had been stalking you, tormenting you with phone calls, was none other than Ghostface. 

“Y-you’re-” 

“That’s right, and you are (y/n), my little fanatic.” He spoke as if you were some sort of pet, and it made you feel sick.

How did he know you? Had he stalked you? Followed you? Learned all he could about you just like the others? The thought made your stomach churn even more. 

You hung up, running up the stairs to your room, and going into your closet. Inside, you undid the lock to your safe and pulled out a shotgun that had your initials carved on them. You grabbed some ammo, stuffing the shells into the gun and cocking it. You were raised on a ranch, so of course you’d have a gun with you. 

When you ran back downstairs, a different phone was ringing this time. Instead of your landline, it was the phone you usually brought around, one that wasn’t always on a hook. You brought the brick-like device to your ear, your shotgun in your free hand. 

“Check your kitchen counter.” You looked over on your left, seeing a photo of you rummaging through your closet mere minutes ago. But how could he be that fast? 

“The next time you hang up on me, I won’t let you off so easy. Now, why don’t you try and come find me? Before I come in myself. Your front door looks like a nice start.”

Tucking your phone under your ear, you ran out to the door, kicking it open, shotgun in both hands. There was no one there. You let out a huff of frustration. He was playing with you, trying to get in your head. You knew how he did this sort of thing, so why couldn’t you predict him?

It didn’t matter. You just had to show him that you weren’t the type of person to be messed with. So, you aimed your shotgun at the sky, firing it off. “You hear that, motherfucker? Try me and I’ll blow your whole arm off.” 

“Oooh, so she has some spunk to her. I like that. It makes this little game of cat and mouse much more fun.” There wasn’t an ounce of fear in his voice. Did he not believe that you could shoot him? That you could kill him? 

“Come and get me, you bastard.” You hissed. 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.” He retorted, his tone growing sadistic. He ended the call, and you knew this was happening. 

So you waited for him, preparing yourself. As the minutes passed slowly, you began to wonder if he was just toying with you. You let down your guard slightly, leaning your back against the door frame, keeping one knee up, and resting the gun on your thigh, sighing softly. 

Suddenly, the flash of a camera shined in your eyes, making you jump, and the gun to fire at the tree in your front lawn. Once your eyes adjusted, you saw that Ghostface was nowhere to be seen. 

“Behind you.” You heard his voice call, and you spun around, shooting the gun right at him. But it wasn’t him, it was his reflection, and you had just shot a hole into your mirror. 

The glass shattered, and you emptied the shotgun, replacing the ammo with two new ones you had in your pocket. You looked all around, scanning the place. It seemed that he was gone. 

Your phone rang, and you went over to pick it up, already knowing who it was. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

“So eager for me to come in, huh? How sweet. It’s a tempting offer, but, unfortunately, it seems we’re done for now since your little show got some cops to come over. To be continued, Doll.” You felt some bile creep in your throat at the nickname, and heard him hang up. 

Your encounter with Ghostface was over, and it seemed that you had some other problems to deal with. Peering through the window, you saw two officers pulling up to your home. One was Jackson, and the other was someone you didn’t recognize.

They stepped out of their car, walking up to the house, the man you were unfamiliar with now studying the baseball-sized hole in your tree. That was going to be fun to explain, as well as your mirror. You quickly went to answer it, as soon as they knocked. 

“We got a call about a domestic disturbance, some people down the road were saying they heard gunshots.” The officer told you.

“I was right about to call. Ghostface was here, he was right in my house, and he was the one who had been following me around and stalking  
me and calling me phone. He tried getting in and attacking me, but I managed to keep him away.” You explained. 

The police both traced glances, then deciding to do a brief search around your home. “There’s no signs of forced entry. Why didn’t you call us before?” 

“Because I just thought it was a prank or something. But I’ve been stalked, and harassed, I even told Deputy Jackson I was being followed the other night.” You answered. 

The cop looked over at Jackson. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Well, I didn’t see anyone.” Jackson muttered, scratching the back of his head. That made you mad. So he just completely overlooked what you told him and didn’t even think of telling anybody else? 

“Ma’am, we heard that you had a little outburst at Mullin’s, during an altercation with the recently deceased Debra Minty. Would you happen to know anything about her death?” The officer proceeded to ask, further pissing you off. 

“Oh my god. You’re kidding, right? So you don’t believe me at all, and you just went right on to questioning me?” You began to raise your voice, mentally reminding yourself that these were cops, and if you slapped them, you would go to prison. 

“Well, there’s no physical evidence-” 

“I’ll show you some evidence. He took a photo of me! And it’s right- where did it go?” You looked around searching for the photo frantically. It was like it had disappeared into thin air, but you knew Ghostface probably just took it with him when he left. He really was meticulous with his work.

“It seems that you’ve undergone immense stress. So why don’t you just relax, and get some rest? We’ll send a detective over to question you about Debra’s death, just as a formality. Have a nice night.” It was obvious that this cop thought you were having a mental breakdown of some sort, and wanted to get the hell out of there. 

You watched as he left, leaving you and Deputy Jackson alone. It seemed he could tell that you weren’t pleased with him, especially the way your eyes were practically burning through him. “C’mon, don’t look at me like that. It was out of my control, there was no evidence.” 

He put a hand on your shoulder, thumb caressing it softly and sending disgusting vibes through you. “I promise I’ll do my best to protect you. And remember if you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call. I need to go now, but I’ll see you around.”

You faked a smile, attempting to please the officer. “Alright.”

So much for serving and protecting. 

You watched as the cops left, and went up to bed. After some restless tossing and turning, you eventually slept, cradling your shotgun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
